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chamber.”
    Mora lifted bewildered eyes to Neil. “We cannot yet share a bed. Can we?”
    The idea of sleeping with this utterly unique and desirable woman left Neil momentarily at a loss for words. What a turn this bizarre day had taken.
    Mora surveyed him through a fringe of lashes. “We gave each other our pledge, and then I was promised to yer brother…”
    Fergus dropped his jaw, not a good look for someone invested in kewl. “Neil has a brother?”
    Mora angled her head toward Fergus. “He has forgotten.”
    “Quite a lot, it would seem.”
    Waving his friend’s comments aside, Neil said, “Don’t worry about the sleeping arrangements, Mora. You can have the bed to yourself. I’ll sleep out here on the couch and keep watch.”
    Red hair flaming in the light, she returned her focus to Neil. “Has Mr. Fergus a claymore ye can wield if the worst should come?”
    “One of those Scottish broad swords?” Fergus quirked a grin. “I lost mine on the battlefield, but my nunchucks are at the ready.”
    Before Fergus went off on his imitation of the quintessential nerd, Napoleon Dynamite , Neil said, “Put your mind at ease, Mora. You’re safe now.”
    “But The MacDonald—”
    “Doesn’t know this place.”
    She gave a guarded nod. “’Tis the enchantment perhaps.”
    “Right. That’ll be it.” Fergus arched his brows at Neil.
    He shrugged and shot Fergus a get on with it look.
    “Fine,” Fergus mouthed, and led the way to the spare room he kept in a respectable state for visits from his mother.
    His social life was mostly virtual and other guests rare, particularly of the female persuasion. Neil’s wasn’t much better, the bulk of his so-called friends having fallen away after his divorce.
    “Why is The Fergus’s hair sech a peculiar color?” Mora whispered, the word hair escaping her lips sounding like heir .
    “Everything about Fergus is peculiar. But he’s possibly the most brilliant man you will ever meet.”
    “Aye. He is most brightly colored.”

 
    Ch apter Six
    Relief .
    The modest sized bedchamber held furnishings Mora understood. Perhaps the enchantment she’d sensed at that wretched hospitale and the Fergus’s front chamber lessened in here. She prayed so.
    It seemed safe enough. A carved bed stood in the center of the room with a large headboard and four posts at each corner. On either side of the bed were wooden stands with a brass lamp, books, and wee portraits of agreeable looking people crowded on the top. A grand portrait of a benevolent matron smiled down on them from the wall in seeming blessing, an ancestor mayhap.
    Much of the floorboards were covered in a carpet woven in a colorful design of exotic flowers. A chest of drawers, a beautifully carved oak cupboard, and a low table with a mirror jostled each other for space. A silver comb, brush, perfume bottles, and vessels that must hold substances for enhancing one’s appearance covered the top of the dressing table. Framed paintings hung so closely on the walls that scarcely an empty space remained.
    The white bed coverlet embroidered with roses complimented the lace-edged curtains hanging at the windows. A tiny room, its door slightly ajar, offered a glimpse of women’s gowns hanging inside. The entire chamber overflowed with an air of femininity.
    And yet, “He has no wife?” she asked Neil.
    “No. His mother decorated this room.”
    “‘Tis lovely.”
    “Unlike the rest of the house?” Neil finished for her. “Mrs. Fergus often visits. She owns an art gallery downtown and a second store in Winchester.”
    “I’m told the city has a beautiful cathedral I should delight to see.”
    Neil’s lips curved in a half smile. “I was speaking of Winchester, Virginia, not England. Many towns here have English names.”
    Mora should have paid more attention to geography lessons, but she’d preferred to learn to read and study English, Latin, and French along with her older brothers.
    Neil gestured at the paintings